Haven't I been here before?
by wise-said-rabbit
Summary: Series 3 Episode 2rnThis is not as much of a flying fire truck as ep 1. This is a quick "getting to know you", setting the stage piece. Don't worry. Fire trucks will soon be flying again.
1. Default Chapter

**Haven't I been here before?**

**Red Cap – Series 3 – Episode 2**

**Hohenbruck Army Base, Germany**

**Day 1 **

**03:15 hrs, Monday**

Those eyes stared at her. She always tried to look away. She could not. Those eyes paralysed her, held her tight against the cold floor. Clear, the eyes turned blue, then green, then deep, deep brown. She found herself staring her own face, dead.

Jo sat up straight.

A moment passed before she remembered where she was, safe, in her barracks, as if the past four months never happened.

Jo stopped outside the back door of the office. All ready she could hear voices arguing back and forth. She closed her eyes, concentrating, trying to pull out the voices, to know who she was about to face. She straightened her jacket. Feeling by touch, she made sure that the part in her hair had not fallen, that the sprigs where her hair had not yet grown in were covered by the longer layer. She knew she looked exactly as she had the day she had left, on the outside anyway.

"Well its nice to see that you've managed to make it on time." Jo jumped as Frost came up the stairs behind her. Jo just stood there as Frost past her. "You are coming?" She looked over her shoulder, giving Jo an up and down look that let Jo know how very much she was right back to where she started. The only good thing that had come out of all of this was that at the very least, Frost was not in charge of the section. Jo took a deep breath and followed her in.

"In here." Frost motioned into Burns' old office.

Jo stopped, staring at the name plate on the door.

"Is there a problem?" Jo stared at her then back at the name plate.

"But-" Frost stared back at her.

"But what?"

"I thought-"

"Sgt. McDonagh, it is good to see you." Capt. Howard motioned her into the office. Jo had no excuse not to. "How are you feeling?" Howard's concern was always genuine.

"Well, I'll leave the formalities to Sgt Major Frost and let you get settled in. You'll let me know if you need anything?" She had left. She had gone to Iraq. She had gone so this did not happen.

"You'll be on restricted duty, of course." Frost set right in on her. Jo was still trying to decide which was worse, the thought of serving under Frost or Roper. Frost was glaring at her. "You'll remain here until you pass your fit to fight test, provided that you pass it. No reflection on you, of course, but even the hardest soldier would have a hard time coming back what you have been through."

"When will I need to take the test?" Jo kept her face neutral. There was no point in making this any more disasterous than it all ready was. She slipped a quick glance out of the window into the incident room, looking for some understanding of why Frost was occupying this office, wondering why, after she had spent weeks dreading the return, that she was disappointed he was not here.

"I'll discuss it with your doctors. For now, you'll be watched to make sure you aren't doing anything that might compromise this section." She seemed to notice that Jo was only half listening to her. "There have been some changes around here since you've been gone." Frost stated the obvious.

"I know."

"You do?"

"Sgt Major Burns told me he was leaving before..." The irritation on Frost's face that Jo knew something before she did made Jo purse her lips together to stop speaking.

"Yes." Jo lied. Haith had been in Iraq. Her debriefings had gone on for days. A black hole occupied the part of her memory where her entire time in Basra should have been.

"Good." Frost did not believe her. "We also have a new sergeant, Sgt. Exeter. You'll meet him at the morning briefing."

"That's fine, ma'am."

"Don't think that I'm not happy that you've somehow managed to come through this, Jo." Jo levelled a gaze at Frost. She knew exactly how Frost felt. For one second, Jo could have wished that the crack to her head was just a touch harder. "Burns was the one that got you posted back here, not me. With the amount of change that has happened, I need every member of my team to be able work effectively and under my direction. If you don't feel that you can do that, you need to tell me now. I don't have the inclination or the luxury of being able to hand out favours for you."

Jo had been dreading coming back here. Nothing she had imagined could even have hinted at this. Working under Roper would have tried and tested every bit of her. Working under Frost, well, this was unimaginable. Too much was flying past Jo, Burns taking the initiative to bring her back, Frost heading the section.

Jo's head started to ache, twinges of white sliding into her vision.

"I'll be just fine, ma'am," was what Jo said instead of running from the office all the way back to the UK.

"Well, then, you'll be in the office, taking care of files, taking reports, things like that. You will not be allowed out in the field or be assigned to any investigations. You'll be - "

"The office girl, ma'am?" Jo did not regret the remark, even with Frost's cold gaze levelled on her. Jo pursed her lips, looking as blank as she could.

"Remarks like that are why I don't think you'll be able to be an asset to this section." Frost shot back.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'll trust that you will refrain from them in the future."

"Ma'am."

"Well, that's all. Your old desk is vacant so you can settle in there. The briefing will start in five minutes. Please inform the section." Frost dismissed her without so much as a look.

"Ma'am." Jo turned, heading out the door to face the rest of the section.

Bruce had her in a bear hug and off her feet before she had gotten two steps out the door. Jo struggled to get loose. The harder she fought to get away, the harder he held. Panic set it. Bruce's arms constricting around her felt like they were crushing her lungs.

"Bruce!"

He dropped her. His crestfallen expression softened her heart. She tried to cover her glare.

"Just happy to see you is all." Bruce mumbled.

"That's all right. You just startled me." Jo consoled him, straightening her jacket. Bruce backed away from her.

"Jo!" Angie came running. Bruce caught her before she reached Jo.

"Hi, Angie." Jo looked about to make sure no one else snuck up on her.

"Hi." Angie looked as sadden as Bruce did. Jo could not think of anything to say to make her smile.

"You must be Jo. I'm Charlie Exeter." A young, posh, black man, Charlie reached his hand out to her. Jo shook it. "Boss doesn't seem all that pleased that you're back." He commented. "I hope that's a good thing?" He winked at her.

Jo looked around for a way to extricate her self from the thong that was starting to gather around her. Everyone smiled, nodding at her. She knew they wished her well. Her gaze rested over on her old desk, sitting disused, the desktop empty save the dusty computer. She edged her way past Bruce, hoping that everyone would just go back to their duties, to allow her time to adjust to having so many people around. Her mum's house seemed a far cry away, and not so much a prison as she had thought it had become. No luck, Bruce and Charlie followed her.

"You're lucky you weren't here." Bruce said, then immediately clamped his mouth shut at the implication. Jo checked through the drawers of the desk. "Burns leaving, Howard gave his posting to Roper." Jo looked up.

"Then what's Frost doing there?"

"Roper turned it down." Jo stopped, looking up at him. Bruce shrugged and shook his head. "No one will say what happened but he turned it down. There was some big row between he and Burns and Roper turned it down. So Frost got it." Jo sat down, looking around the room, digesting that. She did not know if she wanted to ask the next question. Bruce answered it for her without her having to ask. "Roper's over at drugs. Montgomery got posted…well, he got posted to Basra after…well, after all that. So Howard gave Roper the section."

"That's good." Her voice sounded faint.

"Right, well-"

"I trust you've all gotten yourselves acquainted." Frost breezed through. "I want your attention on me now." Jo sat down in her old chair, causing a cloud of dust, while the rest situated themselves around the incident board.

"What's up, Boss?" Bruce asked cheerfully. Frost glared at him before turning to the rest.

"A visiting brigadier was accosted last night on base. The assailants made off with his wallet as well as some other personal articles." Charlie's hand went up. Frost ignored him. "He was not able to give a description of the men who robbed him apart from that there were two of them, young, male, probably soldiers. The assault took place on the pavement behind the administration building. The soccos have all ready been over the place. They came up with two sets of foot prints, sizes eleven and thirteen, army issue boots."

"That narrows it down." Bruce mumbled, then grinned sheepishly as if he had not been aware he had said it aloud.

"SSgt McDonagh, would you like to join us?" Frost snapped without looking at her.

Jo cringed as every head in the room swung in her direction at the rank change. She walked her chair over, sinking down into it and lowering her head so she would not have to see those faces. It was bad enough being back here. The promotion had been the army's idea of rewarding her actions in Basra, actions she did not remember, actions she was less than sure merited any reward. She had been taken prisoner. She had let at least one RMP die without doing at thing as far as anyone knew. The Staff Sergeant rank was a noose hanging around her neck every day, as if she needed any reminders.

"SSgt. Haith and Sgt. Hornsby will lead the investigation. I want it the guilty parties brought in a timely fashion. I will not have soldiers disrespecting their superiors. This will not be tolerated. I will be personally speaking to the brigadier this morning with Captain Howard. I want all information to come to me before it falls on anyone else's ears. "Am I understood?" A flurry of head nods went around the room. "Get to it then." She barked. Everyone was up on their feet in an instant. Frost gave the room a self satisfied look before heading out.

The minute she left, Jo's desk was surrounded again.

"Well, well, well, Staff Sergeant." Bruce was standing over her, arms crossed over his barrel chest, grinning down at her.

"Whatever."

"Next thing I know you'll be running the whole army."

"If it isn't little Sgt. McDonagh." A tall, sandy haired man stood over her, grinning down at her. Jo did not like him instantly. This was SSgt Haith. She knew him from pictures. "I'd ask you to come along with Hornsby and I but the last time you came along, the whole thing went pear shaped."

"Now really." Bruce protested for her.

"SSgt McDonagh is restricted to desk duty until she proves she can handle herself." Frost snapped, appearing over Bruce's shoulder. She elbowed her way past him, dropping a pile of folders on Jo's desk. "Take care of these." She bestowed a simpering smile before turning and leaving again. Jo growled to herself.

"Welcome home, Jo." Bruce told her apologetically.

"Right." Jo muttered, flipping through the pile. "So happy to be here."

"At least the rest of us will be safe for awhile." Haith remarked as he left.

As she changed into her running clothes, Jo was afraid to sit down on her bed. If she did, she did not think she would be able to get back up. She had done nothing but file closed cases for the entire day, leaning over file cabinets left her exhausted. She laced up her trainers, light headed as she stood. The headache that loomed all day sat in the back of her head, threatening. She rubbed the furrowed scar running along the side of her head, a vain attempt to massage it away.

She stretched her legs out in her room, not wanting to be out, available to everyone that seemed to want to welcome her back, unaware of how each of their smiles and handshakes made her aware that she had been gone, why she had been gone.

The cool German air came as a welcome breeze against her skin. Jo looked both ways and headed off west at a slow jog, away from him.

"Jo!" It was too soon, too soon to see him. She quickened her pace, hoping he would not follow her.

The stillness of the woods seemed a thankful sanctuary. The only noise breaking the silence was her steps on the ground, a slight breeze through the tops of the trees. She concentrated on each footfall, one in front of the other, quickening her pace every twenty steps. She ignored the twitch in her side, the menacing headache that still threatened but refused to overwhelm her just yet. Four months of running and still, only a mile in, her breath came rough, her legs ached, sweat soaked through her clothes, her hair. The scar on her head itched insatiately.

Jo grunted as she slipped and fell. The fall jarred her knees first as she skidded, face first down onto the trail. Her vision went screechingly white, tunnelling then completely blocking out the trees around her. She could not get up. She could not even breathe. Panic edged in as nausea gripped her. Somehow she managed to spit. She had not eaten anything all day. She just lay there for awhile.

The only thing that propelled her to get to her feet was the prospect of someone happening on her. She crawled her way up a tree, holding to it, trying to clear her vision enough to make it back to the barracks. She wanted to scream at the pain in her head. She pressed her cheek against the rough bark of the tree, trying to control her breathing, trying to somehow push the pain away.

Hours, it took her hours to get back. Tree by tree, falling several times again, she made it back to the tree line bordering the parade grounds. She hung on the last tree in the encroaching evening dim, surveying the path back to the sergeants' barracks. Barely she could see that the area was clear. She took a deep breath and headed out into the open.

She kept her head down, rubbing her forehead to cover. She walked slowly, trying to appear purposeful in her steps. She nearly tripped as she came onto the pavement. A truck horn blared at her. She stumbled back onto the grass.

"Feel like a pint, Jo?" She peered out through the blinding light. Charlie stared at her.

"No," she mumbled, "no, not tonight." She stumbled past him.

"Are you all right?" She pushed him away as he grasped her arm.

"I'm fine. Just tired. Let me alone." She pushed her way through the door of the barracks.

Her room provided a dark sanctuary. Jo closed the door, sliding down it to sit on the floor.

I will not cry. I will not cry. The tears came anyway, more from the pressure in her head than anything else. She crawled across the floor, grasping at the bottles of medications on the desk. She threw the first bottle across the room, grabbing at another. She had to hold it to her nose to see the print on the tab. She struggled to open the bottle, downing a pill. She sunk down, curling up in a ball, waiting for the pain to end.


	2. Day 2

**Hohenbruck Army Base, Germany**

**Day 2**

**15:15 hrs, Tuesday**

Roper clicked his mobile closed as he walked into the SIB office building.

"She really isn't taking this well, is she?" Ox, one of his sergeants, asked, meeting him at the desk. Roper growled to himself. "The problem with wives is that sooner or later they become ex-wives." Ox groused. "Change your number, that's my advice."

"Where's Donnell?" Roper asked, not amused that Sas's phone calls had become so common place that his team knew about them.

"In the incident room."

Roper stopped in front of his old office. She was there, sitting at her old desk, as if the past four months had not happened. He could not see any of the trace of the bruises, the cuts that had marred her face the last he had seen her. He had only seen her from the back yesterday, when she refused to stop, to turn and face him.

"Boss?" Ox prodded him. Roper wrenched his eyes from her.

"Right. Get the team together. Briefing in an hour." Roper headed on to his office.

"Right, Boss." Ox turned, heading out.

Roper motioned Donnell to follow him into his office as he walked through the drugs incident room.

"Strauss and the locals have anything new?"

"No, and that's the problem." Roper sat down at his desk. Donnell perched on the edge. "Twenty more bodies have turned up in Hamburg. Another two seizures of drugs, packaged for distribution, caught up between here and there."

"Johnson's still in business then."

"Appears so."

"And that means that the drugs are still coming in here."

"And that," Roper rapped his knuckles on the desktop, "I will not have. If I do nothing else here, I want Johnson in prison."

Donnell started pacing the office. Roper watched him. Outside, the team had started assembling. SSgt Jilly McNamara nodded to them as she came in.

"We all want that one in bracelets but he's smart, too smart."

"Is that an insult to my team?".

"Well, Ox might be out in the cold." Donnell grinned. "I just want to prepare you that this is going to be a long one, if you're serious."

"I want him. He's responsible for international drug smuggling, murder, distribution and any number of other crimes. He's a one man crime spree all by himself. The Germans don't like us being here and perhaps they're right. It isn't for me to say. The least we can do is rid them of one of our own."

"Have the locals gotten anything new on him?" Roper shook his head.

"They've kept up their surveillance. Other than keeping away from the Blaue Tur, he hasn't changed his habits in the least."

"Which was our only chance at catching him with whoever is working with him on our side." Donnell mused. Roper smirked to himself. He could all ready see Donnell turning this over and over in his head. "If anything, the whole Shane incident has done nothing but make him more careful."

"The weak link is still here. Johnson was right about that. If we can figure out who and how the drugs are coming in, we can take him down with that alone." Roper snorted. "Easier said than done." Donnell said out loud what had just gone through Roper's mind. "Looks like everyone's here." Roper stood up.

"Let's throw it out to them, see what they come up with."

"What's happening, Boss?" Jilly asked.

"Everyone get comfortable." Roper told them, clearing the incident board. He felt strangely at ease standing up in front of them. He had always known that Burns was grooming him to take over the section. It was envitiable. Roper had not spent much time thinking about, just considered it the next step. He waited until each of them had pulled up a chair.

"Danny Johnson."

"Oh, bloody hell." Ox muttered. Everyone suppressed a laugh.

"Nevertheless, old boy, he's our target."

"We've been after him for years."

"That doesn't mean we won't get him." Jilly chided him. "So what's changed, Boss?"

"Nothing has changed and that's the whole point. I've just had a meeting with the locals. There's a drug war going on in Hamburg that is not showing any signs of letting up. They've got bodies falling as fast as they can pick them up. Now we know that Johnson is trying to take over the drug trade in Hamburg. We know his supply of drugs is coming in from this base." One of the Owens' hands went up. Roper could never keep them straight.

"For God's sake, Miles, you're a soldier, not a school boy!" Ox snapped. "Out with it." The other Owens, Johns, snickered.

"How do we know the drugs are coming in here?" He crossed his eyes at Ox.

"Four months ago, we had a case where we thought we had narrowed down Johnson's base supplier, a lad called Shane, who, it turned out, moonlighted as a car thief. Shane was executed in the back of my car out in front of a house where one of Johnson's bartenders and his girlfriend were executed. One shot, back of the head. The thought was that Johnson was cleaning up some loose ends. Shane and Heidel, the bartender, were weak links. If we got them on the car thefts, we might have gotten them to talk about Johnson's operation."

"I remember this." Jilly mused. "This was the boy that worked over in the warehouse. What made them think Johnson was bringing the drugs in through the base?"

"The locals had the ports on high alert. They knew the drugs were coming in from London. They found nothing. Surveillence on Johnson showed nothing of anything coming through the regular ports or known routes."

"And they're coming in enough quantity that he's not at a loss when he looses a couple of shipments to the locals."

"So our target is actually who is bringing the drugs onto the base." Jilly's brain started turning as well. This team ate, drank and slept their jobs. Turning down Burns' post had seemed a defeat at first. Somehow, Roper thought he got the better deal. This team functioned as one at all times. They were not used to serving under an autocratic seargeant major.

"Was there any lapse in Johnson's operation after Shane's death?" Roper shook his head. "So whoever we're looking for has been here a while. Johnson probably wouldn't trust someone new so soon after that. Maybe Shane was working with someone inside the warehouse."

"We're going to need a solid case against whoever it is, enough to force them to talk about Johnson." Roper put in, preferring to stand back while the rest of them mused the case over.

"First thing to do is find out who is in and out of the warehouse regularly. I'll start pulling personnel records on anyone posted there." Jilly started taking notes.

"Johnson probably isn't in direct contact with whoever it is. We've watched him. The locals have watched him. There isn't any evidence of him speaking with anyone we've been able to connect to the warehouse. He never made direct contact with Shane. We were never able to find out how Shane was involved or how he got involved. The theory was that he was blackmailed but we were never able to prove it conclusively." Donnell told them.

"So that means surveillance." Ox's expression was one of glee.

"You're lucky my man is posted to Basra." Jilly put in. Her husband, also in the army, had been away for months. "He'd shoot you for the amount of hours this is going to require."

"We'll be luckier still when he gets his arse back here to perform his husbandly duties and soothes your nasty temper."

"We need to find out who is coming in and out of there, as well as what's going on inside. Any idea of what size the shipments are coming in?" Miles asked, shoving at Ox to get back to the point.

"The shipments the locals have confiscated were all contained in the boot of a car." Donnell told them.

"Well a lot of bloody good that will do us." Ox grumbled.

"If you spent half the time that you spend grumbling, you'd be something of a help around here." Jilly chided him, shoving at him as she got up. "Boss?" She waved him away from the board.

"Don't mind me." Roper said, moving out of the way.

"Right, so we need to run checks on everyone working at the warehouse." Jilly started writing down objectives on the board. She had a thing with note taking. She was cronically taking notes. "Can we get copies of the manifests of everything going in and out of there?"

"Probably not without raising some sort of suspicion but we should look into it." Roper put in.

"Surveillence can see if we can catch anyone visiting and if anything untoward is going on." They all sat quietly while she continued on. "Locals will be keeping an eye on Johnson." Roper nodded.

"We've done all of this before." Ox grumped.

"And we'll do it again." Jilly snapped, not even looking up. "And if we don't find anything in this warehouse, we'll pull every warehouse and depot on this base apart until we come up with something." She eyed him up and down. Roper hid his smirk behind his hand. "And the exercise will do you good." She poked him in the belly. Roper stood up, separating Jilly and Ox with his body.

"All right." He stood up in front of them again. "Personnel checking, Jilly? You take the Owens. Go over everything. Get the usual stuff but I want financials. Find out everything about everyone. Find out where they're from, talk to UK SIB to check out their lives before they joined the army. Find out if there are any locals engaged to anything at any of our warehouses or depots, while you're at it. Its probably a long shot but we might as well check." She nodded.

"Donnell, I want you to set up and schedule the surveillance. I want inside and out. I want to know everyone in and out of that place. I want to know everything that is going on in that place. You clear it with the brass. Get everything in place and let me know. We'll work out the schedule."

"And what about me? I'm supposed to sit here, taking phone messages?" Ox grumbled. Roper spun around.

"And Oxley, I know the army's line about keeping track of everything onto and off the base. I want you to double-check everything. I want to know how this stuff is getting off the base." Ox rolled his eyes. "Or I could stick you with Jilly and let the twins off the leash?"

"No, no. I got it."

"All right. I want everyone out of here, now. I want you to get a good night's sleep. We'll start tomorrow morning bright and early. Briefing at 07:00 tomorrow morning."

Roper unlocked and opened the door to his flat, searching in the dark for the light switch. He still had not gotten the feel of this new place. His fingers finally felt out the wall switch, the room bathed in light. He threw his keys on the table by the door, wandering into the kitchen to grab an ale out of the icebox.

He pulled off his tie, tossing it onto the sofa, pulling up his ratty chair up to the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the narrow side street. He leaned back into the chair, taking a long draw from the bottle.

This was the same chair he sat in while he waited for Jo that first night at his old flat, waiting for her to come back to him. Months had passed, he was still waiting for her to come back.


	3. Day 3

**Hohenbruck Army Base**

**Day 3**

**09:00 hrs, Wednesday**

"Oh, boy, here she comes." Bruce straightened his tie, nodding to Charlie as he came in the back door.

Frost came storming through the front door.

"Where are we?" Jo did not bother to look up, despite the roar. She flipped through the folder, checking to make sure all witness statements, evidence logs, interview transcripts were in order before dropping it into the box by her feet for storage. She pulled the next file from the mountain on her desk, idly noting that the rest of the team was gathering around the incident board. Frost had apparently given up the pretense of having Jo sit in on the briefings. "Do we have anything? Anything at all? Well, what have you been doing?"

"Well, ma'am," Bruce said gently, "it appears we've crossed the path of a pair of masterminds." Jo looked over. Frost glared at Bruce, who, disaffected, continued. "That bit with the showers is the trick. The dogs can't track and they don't appear to actually reside in the barracks they slip through. Same with the assault last night."

"Last night? What happened last night?" Angie asked.

"A colonel this time." Bruce muttered. "They painted him pink." Snickers broke out through the room.

Jo kept her eyes on the folders, only half listening.

"Enough of that." Frost snapped.

"Will someone please explain to me what happened?" Howard ordered.

"Sir," Jo looked up just as Frost spread a furious glare around the room, silencing the snickers, "another officer was attacked last night. It appears to be the same attackers as the previous attack."

"And he was painted pink?" Howard asked.

"Yes, Sir."

"Where are we on this? We can't have officers being targeted on this base."

"I was just getting to that, Sir." Jo went back to her files.

"We haven't gotten anything on the assailants. They covered their tracks. We're bringing in everyone from the barracks. Initial interviews came up with nothing unusual. No one had recently showered, as the evidence shows that the two showered. It was late enough that most of the lads were in bed." Bruce put in.

"They stopped to shower?" Howard asked in disbelief.

"Sir, probably to get rid of the black face and any paint. Both victims statements say that they were attacked by soldiers in black face."

"Do we have any suspects identified?"

"No, Sir."

"Do we have a line of investigation?" Bruce shrugged.

"We can try tracking down the paint."

"Sgt. Hornsby." Frost snapped. "Sir, we'll have more once we get the soldiers from the barracks in. I will be overseeing the interviews personally, Sir." Jo watched as Howard turned away, looking less than confident.

"Very well." He walked out.

"SSgt. McDonagh." Jo looked up, surprised to be addressed. "You will stand at attention when an officer is in the room." Jo frowned. She had never forgotten to do that before.

"Ma'am," was all she said.

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am." Jo said without getting up. Frost turned her anger on the rest of them, leaving Jo to her file checking.

Jo did not even look up for the next string of soldiers filing in, waiting for their interviews. She had two boxes of files for storage. The pile on her desk had dwindled to one more file. She looked through it quickly, finding the interview notes out of order and passed it over to the files not ready for storage. She got up to start on the next file drawer, having to wind around several slouching soldiers.

"We're not going to get anything from these lads." Bruce was grumbling as he and Charlie came in. "The whole point of going through the barracks that late at night is that everyone is asleep. No one to see, even Mr. Vicary could tell that."

"Well, you have a better plan?" Charlie snickered.

"Yeah. I do. The officers couldn't identify their assailants. We can't track them. There are no witnesses. They were smart enough to stay out of the way of any of the CCTV cameras. The only thing that we have is the forensics."

"The paint? You were serious about that?"

Jo sluffed the next pile of folders to her desk.

"Jo never questions my investigative theories." Jo ignored him.

"Jo is an intelligent woman. She probably questions your investigative theories all the time. You just aren't bright enough to notice."

"Jo knows that if Frost continues on this line, our closure rate in going to go-"

"Next." Frost nearly tossed her latest victim out of the interview room. A soldier, barely out of his teens, stared at her, terrified. She ushered him into the interview room.

"You've been quiet." Jo jumped at Bruce's touch on her shoulder. She stared at his hand, the very touch of it seemed a horrible invasion. He finally took it away. Jo took a breath, unaware she had been she had been holding it.

"What?" She pretended to look back through the files to avoid the odd looks on both Bruce and Charlie's face.

"Jo-" She looked up.

"What?"

"Can you give us a minute?" he asked Charlie. He waited until Charlie was away. "You know, if there's anything, anything I can do, you just need to ask."

"Bruce. I'm fine."

"Okay. Okay." Jo continued to stare at him to make sure that he got the point.

"Josey!" Forney swaggered in. "Well, don't you look lovely."

"Ah, sir, really." Bruce protested as Forney patted Jo's head. She pushed him away.

"I see the knock on your head didn't help your eye sight." Forney remarked, settling himself on the corner of her desk. She was not in the mood for his flirting.

"What are you talking about?"

"You still don't see my fulfilling potential." He flashed her his toothy grin.

"Did you want something, sir?" Jo asked, ignoring him.

"Brucie called me."

"I was going to come over to see you." Bruce protested.

"Well, I've come to you. What do you need?"

"Ah, right, paint."

"Paint?"

"Pink paint." Neither of them could stop snickering.

"Jo!" She did not turn around or stop walking. "Jo!"

She nearly came off her feet when Roper grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him.

"What?" She snapped at him.

"Why won't you talk to me?"

"I don't have anything to say." The truth was she could not think of anything to say.

"So that's it?" Roper's expression turned from anticipation to anger. So quick he could be angered, she remembered.

"What did you think was going to happen?"

"I don't know. Maybe at least we could talk like adults." She folded her arms over her chest, leaning back, not wanting to get too close to him. Part of her wanted to crawl into his arms and sap some kind of strength from him, tell him that she could not go on like this. The other part of her wanted escape, escape as fast as possible. If she allowed herself to break down now, she knew, she would never be able to get herself back.

Jo remained silent. His expression went from anger to soften concerned.

"How are you doing?" It was a struggle to not soften herself.

"Fine."

"How is Frost treating you?"

"Look, Roper, I have things to do."

"You're going to keep this up?"

"Keep what up?

"Jo. Why can't we talk like we used to? I can help."

"Help with what?"

"With what you are going through."

"And what am I going through?"

"Jo. Look." He did not know what to say.

"You're not good at this whole counsellor thing, Roper. Trust me. I had to spend hours with them. There isn't anything more to talk about between us." She stared him down. Roper stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking like a naughty school boy. "Anything else?"

"You think this is fair, leaving me out in the dark like this?"

"This is the army. It isn't supposed to be fair. And this isn't about you. It isn't all about you, you know." She let in that last little jab to keep him from prowling about her and walked away, not looking back.

Jo could not get up from the cold stone floor. She tried to will herself to move, to get up, but she was frozen. The RMP's dead eyes stared at her. Those lifeless greying lips moved, whispering the throes of death.

Jo started out of sleep. She sat up, blinking, peering about her dark room, remembering then that it was all a dream, nothing but a dream. She took a deep breath, rubbing her eyes.

Exhaustion hung heavily on her. She looked over at the clock, eleven-forty-five.


	4. Day 4

**Hohenbruck Army Base**

**Day 4**

**08:15 hrs, Thursday**

"Gather round, you lot." Ox bellowed.

"Right, then. Get yourselves settled." Roper patted Ox to quiet him. The old codge glowered at the team before settling his rather sizable frame into an office chair. Roper noticed he was not the only one who waited, expectantly, to see if the chair would hold. "Where are we?"

"We've started going through the personnel records, Boss. Nothing yet. A bunch of choirboys over there." Jilly started. "I've been talking with the AG's office to get warrants to check out the banks records. Most of the lads have their accounts back in the UK. I'm liaising with UK SIB to get those."

"We checked through them before." Roper conceded. Donnell nodded. "We're going to have to go deeper. Johnson's too clever to recruit someone who would be suspicious right out of the gate."

"I've also had UK SIB start poking about into their personal lives and families. Haven't heard back from them yet."

"All right. Dig deep, Jilly. I want to know everything and anything about everyone in that depot. Also, go back through the records to see who has worked there over the past couple of years. Shane was only here a short while before the irregularities showed up in his bank records. Johnson has been building up to this so there might have been someone before Shane."

"Right, Boss. UK SIB did get back to us about something. They checked out Shane's mum. Checked out her kitchen as well. Turns out that her refridgerator is twenty years old, contradicting Shane's statement. She's also not exactly rolling in it, if you know what I mean. If Shane handed over the insurance money, she doesn't have it or she's still hiding it."

"Did you find out anything at all about Sgt. Foley." Donnell asked. Jilly shook her head.

"No, by all appearances, a career soldier. Not a spot on his records. His commanding officer seems to think rather highly of him." Jilly quirked her face.

"What is it?"

"You met him, Boss?"

"Yeah."

"He's a strange duck, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't trust anyone who is that neat."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Look at him. Everyone seems to think he runs everything in that building. If something is going on, he must know something."

"Right, Boss." She looked over at John and Miles. John was all ready taking notes with Miles watching over his shoulder, pointing out spelling mistakes. Roper shook his head.

"What else?"

"The surveillance is up and running." Donnell reported. "We've got the whole building fitted with cameras and mics."

"Where are you monitoring from?"

"We've got a truck parked round back. Its mixed in with some parked lorries so no one should notice."

"Have we got anything so far?"

"Not unless you could the mannequin twins running about like complete idiots."

"The mannequin twins?" Ox grumped.

"Just wait. You'll meet them before we're done here, I imagine. Watch for flying tape guns, if you value that gorgeous nose of yours." Roper suppressed a laugh as Ox touched his many times broken, gnarled nose.

"All right, I'll be by this afternoon to check it out. Have you got a schedule worked out to cover it?"

"Yeah, Boss," Donnell calling him 'Boss' seemed odd to Roper. "The boys are taking the night shift. Jilly and Ox are taking the day shift. You and I get the evening shift. I've got a couple of RMPs taking watch now."

"That's not going to please the missus much, is it? Or is that the point?" Ox poked.

"He's right. Donnell, you take the day shift. Jilly, Ox, can I get a volunteer to take over evening shift?"

"Spending each and every evening with you, Boss?" Jilly arched her brow.

"She's just dying to, you know, Boss. Better watch out. With Jacks down in the front lines, she's a bit randy these days."

"What? With the likes of him?" Jilly jabbed a finger in Roper's direction. "Not likely. I like a little meat on my men, if you know what I mean." She winked at him as she settled down behind her desk. Ox's whole body jiggled with his laughter. "Be happy to, Boss."

"You'd better bring a weapon, sir, keep yourself safe."

"Settle down, you two." Roper wandered back up to the front of the room. "Rather her than the likes of you." The Owens boys danced around Ox, poking him in the stomach, jostling him about. "All right, all right. Mike, what time do you need to me to be there?"

"Four o'clock. Come round the back so no one sees you."

"Right. Anything else?"

"Well, if I can get anything said around here." Ox grumped.

"Well?"

"I'm meeting with the locals this evening. We need to find out how much is actually coming through. See if we can get a right schedule, you know." Ox tried to sound business-like, failing miserably.

"All right, back to work then, all of you. We need to find something to justify this operation." Roper rapped the board.

"Roper." Bruce jogged after him as he left the office. "Can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, Bruce, what is it?" Roper kept going, checking his watch. He needed to be at the surveillance truck in ten minutes.

"Have you spoken to Jo yet?" Bruce huffed as they came outside.

"We had a conversation. Why?"

"Did she seem right to you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"There's something wrong." Roper stopped. Bruce almost toppled Roper off his feet.

"What?"

"I don't know. She won't talk to me."

"Well, what makes you think there's something wrong?"

"Nothing specific."

"Bruce, I really don't have time for this."

"She lets Frost run all over her. That's not our Jo." Roper looked him in the face. Bruce peered at him, helplessly. "There's something wrong but she won't let me help. What are we going to do?" Bruce asked, more like begging.

"There's nothing we can do. Jo's got a mind of her own. If she doesn't want to talk about it, she isn't going to."

"And that's it? We aren't going to doing anything at all?"

"What do you want me to do?" Roper asked.

"She's my mate. I'm not going to just stand by while she crumbles in front of me." Roper just stood there. "She listens to you."

"Since when? Jo doesn't listen to anyone." He argued.

"So you won't try to talk to her?"

"I all ready did. She isn't ready."

"She driving herself mad. She's always out at the ranges and running."

"She's got to take a fitness test before she's returned to full active duty."

"That's not for a couple of weeks, at least. She's trying to do too much."

"Look, Bruce, I don't know what to tell you. When she's ready, she'll open up. Until then, there's nothing we can do." Roper tried to push past him. Bruce used his bulk to stop him. For the first time, Roper saw something akin to malice.

"Listen, I stood by while you twisted her round and played with her heart. I'm not going to stand about and watch while she drives herself to madness." Roper stepped back at his venom. Bruce stared at him hard before pushing past him back into the offices.

Roper just stood there a moment.

"Something wrong, Boss?" Jilly asked. Roper looked over at her. "You've been sitting here for three hours without a word."

"Was I supposed to be the entertainment for you?" Roper tried to joke. Jilly did not bite.

"She's been out at the ranges every night." Jilly told him, not having to say her name. Roper looked at the monitors, watching Foley tidy up his office for the night.

"Who?"

"Whatever. You know, everyone couldn't make out why you didn't take Burns position. You knew she was coming back, didn't you?" Roper frowned at her forthrightness.

"No. No, I didn't. It didn't have anything to do with it anyway." He tried to brush her off.

"Oh, right, you were waiting for our motley crew, is that it?"

"You didn't want me?" Roper jested, uncomfortably.

"God, right. I would've killed myself if Frost came over. Poor kids over there. I can't imagine what it must be like to work with her, much less under her." Jilly scoffed. "Right coss, if you don't mind me saying." Roper chuckled.

"Well, you better stay in line or I'll make a trade. You for old Hornsby then you'll get your wish." Jilly rolled her eyes.

"Is she all right then?"

"Who? Frost?"

"No, Jo."

"I wouldn't know." Roper wanted to reprimand her but it was a part of his new position that he had not gotten comfortable with yet.

"Oh, come on. Everyone knows, Boss. You're not fooling anyone."

"SSgt McNamara." Roper said as sternly as he could muster. Jilly made a noise.

"Step over the line, did I, Boss?"

"Quite. You might want to think about hopping back across it. We've got a job to do here."

"I hadn't noticed. Is he cleaning his boots again?" Jilly motioned to the monitor. Foley was indeed polishing his boots. "There's something wrong with that man." Roper chuckled.

They sat in silence, watching as the lads went about locking up the depot for the evening. Roper's mobile chirped.

"Boss," it was Ox. "The locals think the shipments are coming in every other week by the traffic stops and the supply on the streets."

"They're sure about that?"

"Yeah, they've got tables and summations, bloody Germans. You know what they're like." Roper laughed. "The line is though, they think the shipments are coming in every two weeks."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah." Jilly got up, checking out the front window as someone walked by. "They've got round the clock surveillance on Johnson. They can't catch him anywhere near any drugs. They even tossed his flat and didn't find anything. They haven't found any connection between him and anyone on base."

"How long are they going to keep up the surveillance?"

"No end date as yet but they can't keep it up forever. He's supplying both Hohenbruck and Hamburg so the shipments are sizable but if he's bringing it in uncut, then even a boot size shipment could service them."

"Have they figured out where the lab is? If Johnson is cutting this stuff up after delivery, then he has to be doing it somewhere."

"Right, Boss. They haven't found it yet. They seem to think that if we can find the shipments coming in, then we can follow it and roll up the whole operation."

"They would, wouldn't they?"

"Sorry, Boss."

"No, that's all right. Get yourself a pint. You've done good." Roper clicked his mobile closed.

"What?" Jilly asked.

"The locals think that if we can catch a shipment coming in, we can follow it through Johnson's whole organization."

"Well, yeah. Wouldn't that be nice. And then they can take all the credit. Looks like everyone is out for the night." Foley locked the front doors.

"We'll see if anyone is scurrying about after hours. I wish we could get manifests and check all the crates going through here."

"That wouldn't tip them off at all."

"Couldn't we get a copy from the the bases shipping in?" Jilly mused the suggestion.

"I suppose but there's going to be talk."

"But if the other bases think they're the ones under suspicion, then we could do spot checks. A crack down on all depots instead of just this one. I imagine that we're not the only place where questionable shipments are moving about. We'd have to get orders from higher up."

"Admitting that we've got a problem here."

"I don't mind admitting it, as long as we clean it up."

"You're a braver man than most."

"We could also check to see what nights shipments aren't coming in and getting in there."

"Do you think they'd leave something in there over night?"

"It's a thought at least."

They lapsed into silence again.

"You two seem like a really good fit."

"Shut up."

"Shutting up, Boss." She actually giggled.


	5. Day 5

Hohenbruck Army Base

Day 5

12:30 hrs, Friday

"What have you all been doing the last four days? Would someone like to tell me?" Frost's low tone bellied her irritation.

Jo looked up a moment from her desk. Everyone had perfected the innocent, distant expression. Bruce was nowhere to be seen. He would be in for it when Frost noticed.

"Where is Sgt. Hornsby?"

"Checking something, ma'am." Charlie put in. Frost stared at him.

"Did I or did I not say that there was going to be a briefing at twelve?" She barked.

"Yes, ma'am, but he thought it was important." Charlie held his ground.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What is he checking?" She growled.

Jo lowered her head back to the catalog of forensic evidence of closed cases. She was going to need to get glasses if she kept this up, provided she could even manage to stay in the army.

"The paint."

"The paint?" Jo glanced over to see Frost's eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "Did I or did I not tell him to concentrate on going through the barracks?"

"You did, ma'am."

"Then why is he not doing what I told him to do?" Charlie stood there quietly. Frost whirled around. "This section is sorely lacking any semblance of professionalism." She stalked around the room.

Jo watched her warily as she came closer and closer.

"I will not have my section behaving as if they're a bunch schoolboys." Jo mued her lips at that. It was proof positive that Frost was serious about not allowing Jo back on the team. "Another attack took place last night. Three visiting officers have been brutally attacked on this base. What do we have?"

A silent pawl slide over the office.

"Well?"

No one spoke.

"This is unacceptable." Jo jumped in her chair at the bellow.

"Right, got it!" Bruce came barrelling into the office.

Jo suppressed a smile as he blew past Frost, nearly toppling her. He pressed a picture up on the board, turning to face everyone with a self-satisfied expression.

"What?" He asked when he saw everyone staring at him.

"Did you find something?" Charlie finally asked. Bruce beamed.

"I checked with Mr. Forney. The paint was spray paint, Krylon spray paint to be exact. In pansy pink, which is more purple than pink, actually…"

"Bruce." Charlie cut him off.

"Right, yeah, I checked out the local stores that carry that brand."

"What?" Frost's voice cracked in its shrillness.

"Twelve cans of pansy pink spray paint purchased by Lance Corporal William Adair last Saturday night."

"And?" Frost snapped.

"What?"

"This corporal might have been redecorating his bed stand for all you know."

"Well, ma'am, it turns out that Adair works at the QM." He waited a beat. "He coordinates the arrangements for the visiting officers."

"Oh. Well." Charlie turned away from Frost. Jo could see the smirk on his face.

Everyone seemed to hold their breaths as Frost stared at the back wall.

"Bring him in." She stalked into her office, slamming the door.

Lance Corporal William Adair turned out to be a lanky, thin haired youngster, who looked as if he might wet his trousers at any moment. Haith pulled the lad from Bruce's large paw.

"Would you look at that?" Bruce grumped, perching his frame on the edge of Jo's desk. "I do all the work. Those two take all the credit."

"That's life, old boy." Charlie consoled him. "What are you doing?" Jo shrugged.

"Getting ready to move evidence from closed cases to the warehouse," she said without looking up.

"Exciting stuff." He mused.

"I'm not going to sit around here and let them get away with this." Bruce growled.

"What are you going to do?" Charlie asked. Bruce was all ready to the door.

"Come along if you like." He yelled over his shoulder.

Jo had just returned from the warehouse. She tried to brush the dust off, sneezing at the effort. She looked up when Bruce pushed another young soldier into the office.

"Sit. There." The boy sat on command. "Hey," he nodded at her, "are they still in there?"

"Yeah." Jo looked over her shoulder toward the interview room.

Mr. Vicary came in carrying evidence bags, dropping them on Jo's desk.

"Don't mix them up with the closed cases." Jo snapped at him, shoving them back at him. Vicary stared at her, in fright, turning even whiter than normal.

"I'm sorry." Vicary whispered.

She stacked the old bags of evidence in a box on the floor, taping it up.

"Excuse me, sir." Jo brushed past him, heading out the back.

The basement evidence locker was blissfully deserted. Jo blew an errant lock of hair out of her eyes. With her hair shorter, it would not reach behind her ear, constantly irritating her. She set the box down on the floor, sitting down on top of it. She rubbed her throbbing forehead.

The silence nearly deafened her, throbbing in her ears. She blew out a breath, trying to push back the nausea that always came with the headaches. Closing her eyes only made it worse. She lost her balance, reaching out to grasp the shelf. A cold sweat seared over her skin. She tried to control her breathing. It did not help.

Finally she pulled the bottle of pills from her pocket. She could barely open the bottle. The pills spilled over the floor as she jerked it open. She rescued two of the pills, throwing them down her throat.

Nothing happened.

Jo tightened her grip on the shelf, willing the pain to go away. Whether it was the pills or the breathing that did it, gradually the pain reeled back, not completely leaving but allowing her to stand on her feet again. She teetered for a moment then stood straight. She took another few deep breaths before lifting the box up to the shelves and headed back upstairs.

Frost's door slammed shut as Jo came through the back door of the offices. Jo sat down at her desk while Bruce stood by the board preening.

"We got them." Charlie whispered to her. Jo frowned but did not say anything. "Frost couldn't get Adair to talk but Bruce brought in his barracks mate who sang like a pigeon."

"Really." Jo murmured.

"I guess the two of them got tired of servanting around the higher ups and decided to make the officers do a little servanting of their own. Found the cans of paint in their barracks."

"Great."

"Want to celebrate?" Bruce asked. Jo shook her head. "Oh, come on, you deserve a drop or two. You've been slaving away all week."

"No." She straightened up her desk.

"What are you going to do? Hide yourself away at the range?" Jo looked up quickly.

"What?"

"You're pushing yourself too hard. You need to take a break." Bruce looked concerned. Jo waved him away.

"Not today, Bruce. I'm tired." She was not lying, either.


End file.
